An Attack In The Night
by twelvepercentfrench
Summary: Tony still struggles to combat his own demons, which only seem to be garnering a greater possession of his mind, and endangering his relationships with all who he loves-including Pepper, following a particularly disturbing attack one evening. [PepperxTony/Pepperony angst]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Tony Stark is one of the most curious characters in my eyes, and I am extremely interested in his own demons and views both of the world around him and of himself. Naturally, this makes him a very fun character to write! I decided to write something that highlighted his paranoia and anxiety, so be weary if that does make you uncomfortable. With dashings of Pepperony angst. Should I make this into an angsty story? Tell me your thoughts! I'm sorry for any faults with English, as it isn't my native language, but I tried, haha.**

 ** _AN ATTACK IN THE NIGHT_**

Never before had Tony had the privilege of being able to lay beside a woman whose warmth and lively spirit could actually influence him, could physically render him speechless and force him to internally scold himself when impulsive and ensure self improvement, changes for the benefit of their relationship. Pepper was a blessing for him, one he'd wilfully remained oblivious to over numerous years, but which he remained blissfully thankful for with each passing day.

Or at least, he told himself that he was. He reminded himself how a healthy, clean, and pure love, with its sly, mischievous teases, inside jokes, and intimacy had felt for him between Pepper and himself; ever since this beast that lingered in his chest had decided to ravage him and claim him, in the most primal way possible, his love had mutated into something desperate and breathless—he was holding onto Pepper for dear life, and continuously felt yet another inch of her silken skin slip from his fingers as time raced by. He could not face the possibility of losing her so permanently after how she had touched his life, and touched his own mentality. Even through his turbulent lifestyle, she had remained a strong, affectionate constant, who was never too judgemental nor too condescendingly accepting towards his actions.

He wanted to be able to openly show Pepper how much he loved her, and how selflessly he did so. They had both witnessed each other at their very worst moments, their most shamelessly vulnerable, and that bare nakedness had not left him unaffected to its impact on their bond; he could trust Pepper, with his life. Did he deserve a mutual sense of that trust, though? Did she trust him at all in the way that he trusted her, despite his growing paranoia towards all of those around him who he, supposedly, could rely on? After a reckless, apathetic and disrespectful lifestyle prior to settling down, he was stunned she could view him as a man worthy of that devotion./p

p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"Tony glanced over to her sleeping form, nestled into the softness of her pillows, breathing easily as she rested. He admired the details of her face that he could visibly make out from being so close to her in the darkened room, but had already turned his attention to the window at the opposite end of the room. His heart was pounding quicker now, trapped like an antagonised animal, bitter and enraged as it wrestled with the cage around it.

He was losing control. Tony Stark was losing control again.

Tony clenched his fists, felt his blood racing thunderously through his veins with a torrent of adrenalin, breathing becoming progressively more challenging as the seconds slowed and ticked by with sadistic grace.

The sudden thrill that tore ravenously through his system as the panic seized his body and mind electrified him, sending him into a stunned, reeling frenzy. His breathing was ragged and constricted, the noises of his inhalation sounding partially demonic. His body became paralysed, and he noticed his vision was altered hugely. His heart thundered wildly in his chest, the pounding heavy in his ears as his eyes looked around wildly for something to focus on.

Tony barely felt the stirring beside him, as Pepper awoke, startled and dismayed, and attempted to comfort him, to guide him through his breathing. His eyes locked onto hers with a fierce intensity, clutching onto the bedsheets and feeling his breathing become even worse as he was launched head first into the depths of this panic attack.

He was going to die. He was going to die. Tony Stark was going to die. His eyes widened and he twisted slightly on the bed despite Pepper's firm slender hands gripping his shoulders, but not enough to discomfort him entirely. He barely felt her, far too invested in the apocalyptic thoughts that plagued his restless mind.

"C… Ple… Oh my G… Please…" They were breathless pants, not much above the pitch of a whisper, which only denied him of more breath. He could hear her voice clearly, but a part of him denied his body the right to follow her instructions. He felt as if his heart would give way under the colossal strain placed upon it, or that his mind would snap too far with the sheer stress, and the surge of fear that seemed to keep him alive these days dragged him down further, digging its sharpened claws into his heaving chest. His throat was closing, his throat was closing, closing, closing, and he was going to die by suffocation-

How long did it go on for? It felt like an eternity had left the pair of them while he had lay there beside her, struggling to regain any semblance of normality within himself. As he gasped and sighed and shuddered, he couldn't help but collapse willingly and gratefully into Pepper's embrace, her arms winding around him and pulling him close to her soothing warmth. His arms fell loosely around her waist, the trembles not having left him enough to clutch her close. He nuzzled into her neck, the exhaustion washing over him as the comedown hit him.

Neve before had he experienced intrusive thoughts as totalitarian as these. It was manageable, but now he felt an insurmountable guilt in his chest, a churning nausea beginning in his stomach for being so weak around the woman he adored, for caving in to the demons of his own creation. It was all his fault, it always was. He gave in, he continuously gave in. He had isolated himself more during particularly rough periods, and it was all simply some conceited, selfish, weak, nonsensical, dramati-

"Tony…" Her voice was a soft whisper, a slight crack as she said his name.

"'M… 'm okay, baby, 's'all fine, I just- just needed to breathe, see?" He held her a little tighter against him, but she pulled back in order to look at her face. Obligingly, he met his gaze to hers and tried to hide the shame from his features. With mighty effort, he cracked a wry grin that he knew she loved, and shrugged. "It's just… One of those things, Pepper. It's a consequence."

Of everything he'd ever done. The weapons dealing he had specialised in, the merciless research to design the missiles that would create the most devastating impacts on small towns, villages, filled with innocents. In those days, war was entirely a business plan for him; collateral damage could only be expected, right? And yet ever since the birth of Iron Man and the development of the Avengers, he had found himself growing guilty. He would always carry that burden, that anger-He was going to lose those who he counted as his dear, close friends, and he was going to lose Pepper. How would he survive that? It was Nature's ultimate punishment given the turmoil he had taken part in ruthlessly inflicting.

"It isn't, Tony, you can't keep lying to yourself like this-you're an intelligent man, but you're a damn stubborn one, too. You can't keep lying to yourself that this is something you can brush away, ignore, leave until tomorr-"

He interrupted her promptly, a headache developing. He desperately needed rest. "I'm fine, alright? I've seen a lot, I've heard a lot, and Hell-I've played my part in things people usually avoid or know nothing about, which helps them keep their sanity. I'm not losing mine, but I-all I need is time, Pepper."

"You can't ignore this, Tony-"

"I'm not ignoring anything, I promise. Would I lie to you?"

She did not honour him with a response; he did not demand one and cast his gaze away.

He unwound his arms from around the curves of her waist, and slid away to sit on the end of the bed, beginning to take off his watch as he looked outside. The sun was very slowly beginning to rise in the horizon, dashes of light blue illuminating and breaking through the perpetual darkness that lingered in the Heavens above them; he smirked to think of that as some twisted, cliché form of motivation, but it was true.

"It'll all go away before we know it, Pep. You don't need to worry for me, so lay back and relax, alright? I'm going to head downstairs, get some water or a smoothie or something, and I'll be back before you know it." As he reached over and placed the watch on the slick wood of the bedside table, he noticed how the tremulous quivering hadn't stopped. His breath hitched but he hid an exasperated sigh, able to feel her concerned gaze fixated sternly on his figure.

As he stood, he turned to look at her with a reassuring smile, but she did not return it. In fact, her brows were furrowed, her cheeks had drained of colour, and her eyes appeared to be both hard and unbearably soft and vulnerable at the same time.

"No, Tony," she moaned. "It won't go away any time soon, and you know that as well as I do-even if you're so reluctant to admit it. But you have to, for us. I don't know if I can do this any longer."

An icy chill he didn't recognise began to trickle along his spine, began to infuse itself into his veins. He stared at her, and the humorous light in his eyes fizzled out in sheer misery.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I am in love with how I have broken through my writer's block recently. Being in a new environment has helped my creative juices to really flow, so I hope that this second chapter is good! I am personally loving being able to write some Pepperony angst.**

 **Please let me know what you think. Your opinions do mean a lot to me, after all. :^)**

* * *

 _ **AN ATTACK IN THE NIGHT:**_

 _ **CHAPTER TWO**_

Tony groaned deeply in his throat as he slowly regained his consciousness, waking up and taking his time with it. His throat felt thick and raw, and his eyes appeared to be slightly swollen with obstinate tears that had swam in them barely four hours prior to this morning. Despite the apocalyptic threat that loomed over the horizon of his world, deadly images of Pepper leaving him once and for all-she had every right to be jaded with their relationship with his current measly state-he had gone downstairs immediately afterwards, poured himself a glass of water to clear his mind (and followed it wisely with a few strong whiskeys to numb the pain).

He was regretting it now.

He carefully raised his body into a sitting position, ruffling his dishevelled, thick hair as he squinted at the time displayed on his watch. It was only 9:12AM, but he felt as if he had remained in his senseless sleep for a small eternity; he already longed for the ignorance of oblivion again. Confronting reality was a new weight strapped to his chest, one he could not shake no matter what he did. Pepper was going to leave him, and his spiral downwards was malfunctioning into more of a... direct plummet downwards.

Despite these paranoid thoughts already developing in his waking mind, Tony couldn't help but notice the thin blanket that had been tucked above his waist, wrapping him in on the sofa. He hadn't intentionally fallen asleep here, and found the gesture both shades of reassuring as well as humiliating. The guilt swelled once more, leering at him greedily. Glancing aside to the sleek, round glass table in the centre of the extravagant, lavish living area, he caught the intoxicating scent of a rich black coffee swirling in the air. Freshly made, the black mug sat upon a small note in familiarly cramped handwriting, where the r's look puzzlingly similar to n's.

Setting his bare feet on the ground and yawning, he stretched with an alarming 'CRICK!' from his back as he did so. He reached out, set the mug of steaming coffee aside, and raised the note to read it.

 _Tony. I made you a coffee (with extra sugar, I saw the whiskey bottle), and thought it was the least I could do. 8:45 as I'm writing this, and I need to go quickly, my phone will be off. I have a meeting with executives followed by a press conference you were meant to be at, but you're not up for that at all, no matter what you say, but I'll think of something. I've got it all handled. Leave the whiskey alone, tinker with some projects if you need to. And if you can't talk to me, talk to Bruce. Talk to Rhodey. To Steve, to a councillor, whatever you think will help you. I don't know what will anymore._

 _Take a break and have a lay-in._

 _I'll be home at 5._

 _Pepper._

 _x_

Exasperated, Tony tossed the note aside, took a sip of the scolding coffee, and allowed the steaming liquid to burn his tongue and the roof of his mouth-not so much so as to be truly painful, but also not enough for him to actually care. Not now, not when he felt as if the foundations of his world were slowly closing in around him as if they were a part of a colossal claustrophobic trap.

It would be counter-productive to think about the situation now, no matter how dire it may or may not have realistically been; if he was going to lose Pepper, it was true that he couldn't spend time dwelling on things and reading far too deeply into the slightest turn of phrase. It would be unfaithful to Pepper if he should bathe and indulge in his own anxious paranoia, and endanger their relationship even further—despite how tremulous it currently was. Tony felt utterly pathetic, and far from his notorious self. He felt as if he was a shell of his past self, confined to a prison filled with depression, addiction, misery, paranoia, envy, and perpetual self-loathing. How could he prevent these feelings of guilt and shame from consuming him whole, when he knew for a fact that Pepper could have found a man who would be perfect for her and add to the success in her life. Instead, Tony was selfishly imposing himself onto her, unwilling to lose her after what she had done for him.

The disgust she must have felt towards him as she saw him lying there before heading out for the meeting must have made her feel nauseous. How could he recover from this? It seemed there was no simple answer available to him.

Reaching for the remote across from him on the table, he flicked on the television and found it immediately stationed to Fox News. Grumbling under his breath, he turned stations until watching a more respectable news station (one his father may have dismissed entirely as liberal bullshit), and felt his heart ice over due to what he saw.

Congratulations to Tony Stark—he'd made it onto the news again. Not even as an enjoyed personality or an admired public figure, but instead was shrouded in mystery, speculation, and rumours. Listening carefully even though he knew better, he was appalled at what he was hearing.

"Millionaire businessman turned global idol Tony Stark has recently been under scrutiny in the public eye for lashing out aggressively at a WWNN reporter. After leaving a casino a few days ago and stumbling along the street in the afternoon, he was spotted by several reporters who noticed immediately that something was wrong with Mr. Stark. Before altering his lifestyle for one of fighting evil as an Avenger under the support of government regimes, Tony Stark was renowned for his role in missile technology and the development of modern warfare, and his lavish lifestyle filled with gambling, drinking, women, and even speculations of drug abuse in a nightlife atmosphere. Despite these things being apparently behind him, the footage you see on the screen of him cursing at our reporters as they posed questions to him, evidently shows him highly emotional and slurring his speech, unable to walk straight and confidently. With this recent outburst, social media has been filled with theories and speculations as to why or what Stark's motivations were, and whether or not he has fallen back into the temptations of his previously wild life. Many have called for an apology to the reporters for also striking at one of the cameramen's equipment, but there has been no word from either Mr. Stark or his representative team as of yet."

As the new articles of the day concerning the recent audacious campaigners and controversial corrupted public figures pressed on, he turned the television off as eagerly as he had initially turned it on. He was not only shamed in the eyes of Pepper, and had very little recollection of that day. Running his hands through his hair and feeling the narrow, sharp pains and aches in his head develop, he stood and walked to the bar, ignorant to the cooling coffee. He needed something stronger—a cure.

* * *

Pepper sat uncomfortably in the chair, remaining skilfully oblivious to the edge of his poking into her back. She leaned forward, her hands poised on the desk, her red hair intricately put into place. It was twisted into a detailed bun at the back of her head, wavy strands framing her face delicately, but her features set with a graceful, feminine power of her own. She was arguing a particularly fragile case with the four men and two women who sat patiently in front of her, all of them unmoving and stubborn on their position. Calmly, she continued with her point (which had been promptly interrupted by Ms Harrison), stating that:

"Mr Stark will not be offering his suits to any governmental organizations—whether that is the FBI, the CIA, or even to overseas allies such as MI5 or MI6 in Britain. While he does agree that national security is certainly an issue that needs to be addressed in this day and age—"

"If he does agree, Miss Potts, why would he not assist us in protecting America? He holds in his grip very serious technology, and many people are unsettled by one man wielding that power. The government cannot rely on him given recent events."

Pepper grit her teeth, but smiled politely regardless and maintaining her professionalism without even a gap in her facade.

"With all due respect Ms Harrison, just because an organization works for the government and believes in protecting America does not mean that the power won't be abused. It is not any safer in the hands of the government than it is in the hands of Mr Stark. As someone who works with him closely on a daily basi—"

"I bet you do," Ms Harrison sneered snidely.

"—As someone who works with him closely on a daily basis," Pepper repeated, "I can promise you that he does not view what he has created as a toy to use on the playground, as something to use against the American people. SHIELD was compromised, certainly, but the Avengers Initiative is still secure and confidential. Mr Stark's loyalties lay there, and they will remain there. He is not going to be using his technology as much in coming months."

One of the gentlemen finally spoke, doubt crystal clear in his patronising voice.

"Miss Potts," he said, "could you please explain why he has such an aversion to this compromise? The CIA and the FBI are in great need of such technology if we want any hope of reducing the terror threat in the US in present times. It sounds to me as if Mr Stark believes those in power could be the real threat?"

"With all due respect, Sir, I believe you've looked into my words too deeply. Mr Stark simply believes in being careful and respectful of the technology he has manufactured and secured in his suits."

"It sounds more as if he is paranoid and suspicious and working against the government, though. You cannot deny that, Miss Potts."

"Everyone needs a hobby."

"Excuse me?"

"I think maybe it's time for me to show you some data and figures from the company and concerning Mr Stark's productions. If you're all sitting comfortably, can I continue with my presentation?"

With the silence that followed, Pepper stood, and used a remote to flick the screen behind her on. This was going to be a particularly long day, and it had barely started for her yet. Ironically, she could feel the distant pounding of a headache develop, a nagging pain she found it admittedly hard to soldier on through.

* * *

By the time that 5PM had rolled around, Tony had virtually lost all sense of time at the bottom of the bottle.

Distressed and finding it all too easy and reassuring an embrace, he had fallen back into old habits—well, old habits do die hard. Gulping initially from the glass, he had turned eventually to simply swigging his drink from the bottle, laughing and crying at the slightest of things, having lost all control over his own emotions and composure as a grown man, albeit a damaged one.

The music blasted through the house, the deep bass virtually causing vibrations through it. The echo was satisfying as the blissful sounds of rock music filled every space, enabling him to be drunk and enjoying it, whether experiencing the depression or the euphoria and hilarity it brought him. He moved around and stumbled, falling, damaging priceless, expensive glass... things (if he could call them that) that Pepper found artistically beautiful for something. Artistic, impressionist antiques that he honestly had never cared for. As a curvaceous glass figure fell to the floor and shattered, transparent shards clattering across the floor with lethal points glinting in the light, he could only bring himself to sputtering and laughing like a fool.

He continued to practically dance through the house, singing along to the songs he loved dearly as he hid away from every issue that anguished him. He slurred the lyrics and mumbled his way through many, his eyes half-shut and bloodshot, his grin one of an ignorant drunkard.

The world was good and he was born to have fun, to ignore his issues! Why spend time on the things that didn't matter? So what? Pepper could leave if she wanted to, of course she could! Why would an adult woman manipulate him after an anxiety attack? Through his bleary intoxication he felt he could see this clearly, this victimisation. He needed time, and now that he thought critically about it, he needed much more drink.

Speeding his way to the kitchen and laughing as he slipped on some spilled drink, he made a grab for the bottle of Jack Daniel's on the slick island of the bar and placed a scotch glass on the granite much too roughly. It did not disturb him when the deafening music was abruptly silenced, his reaction slow and one of partial offence. Noticing Pepper standing there with her hands by her sides, her cheeks appeared to be flushed beneath the dusting of makeup on her face, her eyes glistening with a peculiar watery appearance.

"Well. I really do hope I'm not interrupting you or anything." Tony did not respond and took a lengthy swallow from his glass, scrunching his features as the warmth slipped down his throat. "I've only just saved you from becoming a government slave, property to the CIA, and while I'm there, do you know what I said?"

"Shhhould I actually... give a damn?" He slurred, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Damn right you should." She stalked over to the bar and yanked the whiskey bottle from his hands, pulling it away with a force that caused him to raise his eyebrows. "I sat there and told them about how you were a responsible man recovering from a whole load of drama and trauma, but that you were in the right environment and that you would be able to work in peace now. That you could be trusted, that you were a good person."

"Gimme the whiskey, Pep, don't be a bit—"

"Shut UP! Listen to me, Tony, listen to me right now!" She was raising her voice, practically pleading with him to listen to her through this void. "I saved your ass today! I bargained and bartered and I saved your petty ass from being sold off, and from being reprimanded if they saw the state of you."

"Never asked you to," he mumbled, leaning on the bar and looking anywhere except for in Pepper's teary gaze.

"You need some serious help, Tony," she whispered. "Can't you see this has gone far enough by now? I wanted you to talk to someone other than me but you need some kind of professional. Tony, Tony look at me, look a—"

"I don't need—I don'need ANYONE! Can't you see that?! Can't you see that, Pep?! I don't need a single damned person in my life! It just ruins everything, people aren't worth trusting and they never were. I don't care what you think or what you think is good for me. I don't... I don't need... anyone."

He had that obstinacy of the stereotypical drunk which Pepper loathed, and it only served to upset her further. The most gullible side of her had expected for things to become resolved, for Tony to push himself back into action after seeing how ready she was to terminate whatever relation they'd ever had—as colleagues, friends, and lovers. Instead, he had tumbled down a dark tunnel and didn't even seem to carry a burning passion or desire to ever resurface from those depths.

"You're disgusting when you're like this," she said darkly. "I hope you know that."

As she marched away to the stairs, he merely called out,

"Right back at ya, honey!"


End file.
